pag180iloTHE EXCITED HORSE PLUNGED ALONG
pag180ilo
THE EXCITED HORSE PLUNGED ALONG
"Hurt much?" he asked curtly, shaking the prostrate man by the shoulder.
"More scared than hurt, I reckon," replied Mr. Gossett. "What was that dog barking at just now?"
"He ain't used to seeing white folks in the dirt," Aaron explained.
"Who are you?" Mr. Gossett inquired.
"One," answered Aaron.
"Well, if I'd seen you a half hour ago I'd 'a' sworn you were Two." Mr. Gossett made this joke at his own expense, but Aaron did not understand it, and therefore could not appreciate it. So he said nothing.
"Put your hand under my shoulder here, and help me to sit up. I want to see if any bones are broken."
Aided by Aaron Mr. Gossett assumed a sittingposture. While he was feeling of himself, searching for wounds and broken bones, he heard his horse snort. This reminded him (for he was still somewhat dazed) that he had started out with a horse and buggy.
"That's your horse, I reckon. Mine's at home by this time with two buggy shafts swinging to him. Lord! what a fool a man can be!"
"That's your horse," said Aaron.
"Mine? Who stopped him?"
"Me," Aaron answered.
"You? Why, as near as I can remember, he was coming down this hill like the dogs were after him. Who are you, anyhow?"
"One."
"Well, you are worth a dozen common men. Give me your hand."
Mr. Gossett slowly raised himself to his feet, shook first one leg and then the other, and appeared to be much relieved to find that his body and all of its members were intact. He walked about a little, and then went close to Aaron and peered in his face.
"Blamed if I don't believe you are my runaway nigger!" Mr. Gossett exclaimed.
"I smell whiskey," said Aaron.
"Confound the stuff! I never will get rid of it."
Mr. Gossett put his hands in his pocket and walked around again.
"Your name is Aaron," he suggested. Receiving no reply, he said: "If your name is Aaron you belong to me; if you belong to me get in the buggy and let's go home. You've been in the woods long enough."
"Too long," replied Aaron.
"That's a fact," Mr. Gossett assented. "Come on and go home with me. If you're afeard of me you can put that idea out of your mind. I swear you shan't be hit a lick. You are the only nigger I ever had any respect for, and I'll be blamed if I know how I came to have any for you after the way you've treated me. But if you'll promise not to run off any more I'll treat you right. You're a good hand and a good man."
Mr. Gossett paused and felt in his pockets, evidently searching for something. "Have you seen a pistol lying loose anywhere around here?" he asked.
"It's all safe," replied Aaron.
"You've got it. Very well. I was just going to pull it out and hand it to you. Come on; it's getting late." Seeing that Aaron made no movement, Mr. Gossett tried another scheme. "Well, if you won't go home," he said, "and I think I can promise that you'll be sorry if you don't, get in the buggy and drive part of the way for me. I'm afraid of that horse after his caper to-night."
"Well, I'll do that," remarked Aaron.
He helped Mr. Gossett into the buggy, untied the lines, took his seat by his owner, and the two were soon on their way home.